Potential
by Silphanis
Summary: Faith has set her sights on L.A, seeking a mourning Angel's help in her mission to recruit and protect the newly activated slayers. They reconnect as they seek them out, but in the City of Angels, not everybody acts like one, and they'll have to face those who would hurt the slayers, as well as the slayers themselves, having been given more power than sense. (Post-"You're Welcome")
1. Arrival

The room was horribly light, the midday sun gleaming mercilessly in through the wide windows. The figure that sat slouched over the desk in the middle of it stood in stark contrast, clad in all black, which matched his mood a tad too perfectly. He let out a deep sigh as he made himself intimately familiar with the surface of his desk. The past months had started to wear on him.

From a chair to the side of the room came an all-too-familiar voice. "What's all the huff about, mate? Seems to me like you've got it pretty good here."

Angel's head jolted up. "You know, Spike, your voice isn't something I was hoping to hear today."

Spike rose from the chair he'd claimed. "Oh, I am deeply hurt." The bleach blonde vampire dramatically put his hand on his chest. "Still caught up on your old bird haunting you?"

"She wasn't- She didn't- You know, why haven't I called security on you yet?"

Spike scoffed. "What security? You mean the guys who let a small army of cyborg ninjas in the building a couple of months ago? Yeah, real mark of excellence right there."

The sigh that escaped Angel's lips sounded like his soul was following it out. His eyes were closed, but he could see Spike's self satisfied smirk clear as day. As if to rescue him, he heard a call through his intercom. " _There is someone here to see you, Boss."_

Tired, he sat down and clicked to respond. "Someone? I wouldn't mind specifics, Harmony."

" _Ummm, brunette, leather jacket, looks kind of skanky. She told me to say that you owe her for the last beating she gave you. Should I send her away?"_

Angel's eyes lit up, much to Spike's amusement. "No, I'm coming down. I was planning on going out." He grabbed his jacket and rushed out the door, leaving Spike to his own devices. He scurried down the hallways, already happier than he'd been for a while. He got a few odd looks from his employees, but then again he was used to that. Finally, he stepped out into the lobby, his coat flapping rather less majestically than usual. And there she stood. Clad in black leather, hair dancing as she moved. A sight for sore eyes to be sure. "Faith!" he said, louder than he'd intended. She turned her head and smiled at the sight of him. Her face quickly turned though, revealing a hint of skepticism. He walked towards her with brisk steps, nearly bumping into several employees , before he found himself in front of her. They stood there for a while, none of them quite knowing what to say.

"It's good to see you," Angel finally said.

"Right back at ya', A. Been a little while." Her eyes darted around the room, hiding little of her uncertainty. "So... what's the Evil Incorporated thing about? I mean I did some stuff for this place, but we both know how I was doing back then. And you're running it now?".

Angel shifted his feet a bit. He was hoping for a nicer hello. "That's… gonna be a bit of a long story."

She raised an eyebrow. "I've got time."

* * *

He sat for a while, staring out the window. He'd gotten a lot of weird looks the way he was covering himself from the sun on the way, but people were used to stranger things on the streets of L.A. The milkshake in front of him remained untouched. Strawberry. Not that he'd particularly wanted one, but Faith said she'd feel weird if he didn't also get something. The silence was completely deafening. Finally he spoke up. "So what brings you to L.A?"

"That's what you're going with? After that thinking sesh I thought you'd have something just a bit more profound."

He stared into the table while biting his lip. Truth was, when he wasn't in dark alleyways, trench coat flapping like hummingbird wings, he had very little idea what to do most of the time. Vampires? Sure. Demons? Cool. Unspeakable eldritch horrors? Eat 'em for breakfast. People? Running to the hills before you could say 'social interaction'.

She sighed, ever amused at the vampire's antics. "Officially? Slayer duty. You've probably heard of Willow's little mad scientist bout, and these new ones are popping up like whack-a-moles so L.A's not a bad place to go looking. And I thought it'd be a good chance to check up on the old A-meister." Angel raised an eyebrow at that last comment. "Seriously, we've been so busy, everything's been a mess, and I'm just tired. I guess I wanted to see a familiar face. I mean Andrew called me to get me up to speed on the whole Wolf-Heart thing but he's Andrew. Thought he'd misunderstood or something."

"Well…" he stopped, unsure of what to say.

"Angel, this is big stuff. I understand why and all, but can you really trust all this?" There was clear worry in her voice.

His hands struggled to find purpose, fiddling uncertainly with each other as he thought. "I know, Faith, and trust me, this wasn't an easy decision. But-" he leaned forward a little, making eye contact with her. "Look, I fought these people for years. They were far stronger than us, in every aspect, it was a losing battle the whole way. We have a real opportunity here, to use all this power for some kind of good. It's not as exciting as being a champion on the streets, but it may be the best choice for us."

Cordelia's words echoed in his mind. " _You just forgot who you are."_ Had he remembered? It had seemed like a great epiphany at the time, some release from all of this, but still he found himself here. He hadn't escaped, he hadn't changed. Same justifications, same routine, lacking the meaning he was once driven by.

"Look, man, I owe you everything. I'd trust you with my life. But this, it seems like a super bad idea. They've pulled you in with all these promises because they know they can twist you. I mean, are you happy doing this?"

He raised a hand to his head, then let it fall. "I want to help you with this. With the slayers. I can use Wolfram & Hart's resources, let me prove to you that I can make there's potential for good here."

She mulled it over, then nodded, slowly. "Evil business or no, you're still the Angel I know and… tolerate. Let's do it."

* * *

Angel threw the double doors into Wolfram & Hart open, theatrical as ever. Faith came in close behind and walked up to stand next to him, having stopped in the middle of the lobby. "Welcome," he said, making a sweeping gesture with his arm.

Faith turned her head a few degrees and eyed him. "I was here like an hour ago."

Angel seemed oddly in his own world after their talk, and barely heard what she said. "Come on. I wanna show you something."

She followed behind him, getting increasingly unnerved by the unending white walls and employees passing by. Suddenly, she spoke up "Hey, A, not for nothing, but is this place… safe, for someone like me? Like, at all?"

His face became more serious, wanting to reassure her. "You don't have to worry. I'm the CEO of "this place". You're my guest."

She opened her mouth as if to reply, then dropped it. If there was one person she trusted to lead her around the center of evil in Southern California, it was him. The hallways went on and on, like they were stumbling through a labyrinth, but Angel seemed to know his way around. Finally they stopped in front of a room. Angel opened the door and went inside, Faith close behind. Six people sat around the room at similar looking desks, all with frighteningly neutral facial expressions. "The research department!" he said, making another grandiose gesture with his arm. A young looking woman with glasses waved meekly at her, then returned to her computer screen.

"Real lovely office, A, but why did we go here again? I'm not exactly sure I caught… anything about that?"

"Well you're looking for potential slayers, right? Nobody can find them faster than these guys. There are upsides to running Evil Incorporated you know," he said, smiling at her, seemingly hoping to impress. He walked over to the leader of the department's desk and rested an arm on it. "So, I need to find some potential slayers. There are bound to be a few hiding around to-" he was cut off by a thin stack of papers getting shoved in his arms.

"This is all the data we've collected about them, including names, addresses, occupations, favourite foods, everything you'd care to know." he said in a complete monotone.

Angel was a bit stunned. "Oh. Well, thanks. Um, go back to whatever you were working on."

The man turned away and Angel walked over to the doorway where Faith had been standing, observing the episode. He shot her a somewhat dorky smile as he swung the papers around. "These guys are the real thing. Always know what you need before you even do."

"Uh huh. Can I see those?" Faith said.

"Sure thing." He handed her the stack, slightly disappointed at her lack of reaction. He finally had someone who wasn't embroiled in this mess to confide in, and she was echoing everything he was worried about. Everything _**she**_ had been worried about. He had to show her the good here. He had to show her that Wolfram  & Hart wasn't a lost cause. Otherwise, why had he done this?

She started rifling through the papers raising and lowering her eyebrows as she read. As she finished the last page, she immediately went through again, stopping at a particular section. "Here's one close by. Name's... Isabel. Wanna come check it out with me?"

Shaking himself from his thoughts, he nodded. "Of course," he said, earnestly. Their eyes met, and they smiled at one another.

* * *

They walked side by side down the hall, determined steps carrying them. The employees they passed on the way gave them odd looks, but not a lot their CEO did could surprise them anymore. As they passed another hallway, a voice came. "Faith?". They turned to find Wesley, standing facing an equally surprised Fred. They looked like they had been interrupted in the middle of something. "Didn't know you were in town."

She smiled genuinely at seeing him. "Hey Wes. Yeah, showed up on your doorstep like a stray baby in a real sweet jacket. It's nice to see you."

"It's… nice to see you too." Wesley looked down for a few moments, clearly deep in thought.

"Everything five by five in the brain department?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah." he muttered, unsure of what to say.

"Well, I'm glad to see you too!" Fred chimed in, breaking the awkward silence. Wesley looked at her thankfully.

"Freddie! Surprised you haven't married the Great Ensouler yet, considering the riveting display the last time I was in the ol' City of Angels."

Fred gave a slightly confused smile, trying to understand her meaning. Then it dawned on her. "Oh, you thought she…" She looked at Angel, who gave her a little shrug. She then turned to Wesley, who looked at her with raised eyebrows. "She wasn't-" She stopped when she saw everyone looking at her.

"So, what are you two up to? You look like you're in a hurry." Wesley said.

"Well, I'm kind of here on business, so we're off to find one of the new slayers. Angel's private Gestapo sniffed a few out."

Angel shot her a look.

"I see. Well you had better get going then I suppose," Wesley said, seeming eager to end the interaction.

"True. Nice to see you though!" She tried giving him a fist bump, but he didn't quite seem to understand before they'd already passed the awkward point. He did an uncertain hand gesture to her and walked away, Fred beside him.

"You notice anything off about those two?" Faith asked, when they were a safe distance away.

"Like what?"

"Like… suspicious smiles? Get-a-room-iness?"

Angel's blank stare told her enough.

"Angel, I love you man, but you are dense as a rock." Faith smiled and shook her head.

She put an arm around his shoulder, startling him. "Well come on, let's get going! Helpless won't help themselves, eh?"


	2. Visit

"So, do we just… knock?"

They stood in front of the yellow door to a cheap house close to the outskirts of town. The air was warm without texture, even in the shadow they found themselves in, much to Angel's relief. Drawing in the air, it became clear to him that someone was grilling close by. "I suppose," he said.

She shrugged, gave the door three firm knocks, then took a step back, awaiting a response. They heard steps coming towards the door and stopping in front of it. "You won't find her 'ere you bastards," an older, female voice coldly sputtered.

"Excuse me?" Angel was taken aback at the immediate hostility.

In a movement seemingly much too fast for a woman her age, the house's resident flung open the door and faced the pair with a shotgun pointed at them. "I said, you won't find her 'ere. We learned from the first time. Now get the fuck away from my home." In her voice was a quiet but clear seething anger.

Angel had put his hands up, while Faith just stared at the woman in disbelief. Angel was the first to talk. "I- I think there's been a misunderstanding here. If you're talking about Isabel, we're here to help her."

Her face remained as set in stone. "You're not doin' yourself any favors 'ere, vampire."

"How do you- alright, it doesn't matter. Who's after her?"

She spat, hitting Angel's shoe. "Even if you're not with them, what in the hell makes you think I'm interested in telling you about my daughter?"

Faith rolled her eyes slightly, then turned. She found a large rock close to the entranceway, lying in a patch of grass. She held it up in her hands, the woman following it with her eyes, then crushed it with little effort. "Because I'm like her," she said. The woman's eyes widened at the sight. "I'm Faith. Faith Lehane." She extended a hand, covered in grey dust.

With a slight frown, the woman took it, her other hand still firmly clasping the shotgun. "Barbara. Miller, if you gotta know." She brushed her hand against the right leg of her pants, that struck Faith as not being from anywhere close to the last century. "What's with the vampire? Thought y'all killed demons, not get all friendly with 'em."

"He's a vampire with a soul. Gypsies, I think. It's a whole thing."

Barbara chewed a few times, frowning. "Looks like the rest of 'em to me."

Faith let out a sigh, and shook her head briefly. "Look, he's safe, alright? Unless he gets a little too friendly with a cute blonde."

Barbara looked Angel up and down, then spoke again. "Alright, you're welcomed inside, but try any funny business and I'll empty this ol' thing in your pretty face." She tapped her shotgun twice with an open palm.

Faith smiled cockily at Angel. "You owe me one, lover."

He would have blushed, were it not for a fortunate lack of circulation.

* * *

Spike trolled the halls of Wolfram & Hart, seeking something, anything to occupy his time. His wish was granted as a door in the hallway that stretched out before him was opened, and Fred and Wesley exited. Fred's hair was tousled, and both of them looked slightly sweaty, amusing Spike. "Good to know you lot aren't having trouble passing the time," he said.

"Spike. I see your favourite target has left the premises," Wesley snarked.

Spike threw out a hand in exasperation, having waited to vent. "Right! He's being all moody and grumbly, real sad sight. Then out of nowhere comes this slayer girl-"

"Faith," it came from Wesley.

Spike stared at him. "Right, I know that. I have actually met the woman, believe it or not. So she comes a-knocking, Angel rushes down, lest a fair maiden be left alone for two seconds. Next thing I know, they're out the door! Goodbye Piccadilly, farewell Leicester Square. Not as much as a hello do I get."

Wesley took a step towards him. "You know, a less polite person than me might call you jealous. Though of who, I'm not sure."

"I don't much care for your tone, watcher wash-up. Here I am, pouring my frustrations out to my friends, and you question my pure intentions?"

Wesley remained unphased. "A little, then?"

Spike made another frustrated gesture with his arm. "Well sure, maybe I'm a little jealous. I do actually quite like the girl, I was looking forward to hearing what she's been up to after our little apocalypse affair." He looked to one of the walls, as if seeking out something, but his gaze returned to Wesley. "Y'know, that lot managed to not end up running a massive evil company, imagine that."

Fred stepped forward. "Well does she even know you're here? Maybe she thought you were… somewhere else."

Spike scoffed. "Yeah right, like Andrew wouldn't snitch."

"Oh, that cute watcher boy who visited us a while back?" She tilted her head.

"Yeah. Fairly sure he's not exactly batting for your team though, I'm sorry to say," he replied, a slight twinkle in his eye.

"Oh, I didn't mean-" she looked to Wesley, who looked quite apathetic about the exchange. "Well, I'm sure they'll be back soon," she said, cheerfully. "Oh, do you want to help us with some research? We're looking at a cool species, you could get the samples and tools for me!"

Wesley was about to protest, but Spike answered first. "I'll help you out, pet. My plans for today weren't much outside 'annoy Angel', important as that is."

Fred turned around and walked towards the lab, Wesley and Spike making faces at each other as they followed behind.

* * *

The living room was small, but quaint. Adorning the walls were several family pictures, most including a girl they assumed to be Isabel. In the air was the unmistakable smell of freshly baked bread. Apparently threats weren't Barbara's only skill. The house lay close enough to the road that there was a constant background of engine roars, tire screeches and honking from agitated drivers. If the used up furniture was any indication, there wasn't a lot of money to go around in this household, but the placement clued them in on how the house could be affordable. Nevertheless, there was a homelike air to the place, undoubtedly a mother's touch.

Faith leaned back in the half of the worn, blue couch she'd claimed. "Nice place for a lady with a shotgun handy."

"She knows about the demon world. I don't blame her for being a bit on edge," Angel said.

"Still, little bit paranoid, being afraid of a harmless lil' thing like you," Faith teased.

"Excuse me, I am not harmless!" He turned his head, frowning.

The door opened, and Barbara entered the room, carrying a pot, smelling distinctly of black coffee. "Y'all settled in well?" she asked, eyeing Angel.

Faith looked at the pot with craving. "Five by five."

"The hell's that mean?" Barbara tilted her head slightly.

"Don't bother," Angel said.

"Something my dad used to say," she replied.

"Means 'good'," Angel clarified, knowing a full explanation of Faith's vocabulary would take longer than any member of the trio cared to continue.

Barbara took a seat in a comfy looking chair to the side of the coffee table they were sat at, and Faith silently cursed herself for not taking it. Barbara set cups out to each of them, and poured the coffee. "Y'all take anything?"

Faith made a dismissing hand gesture as Angel leaned forward. "Who was it that came for Isabel?" he said.

"All business, huh?" Barbara chuckled.

"Well, you did threaten us with a shotgun, so I'm assuming the situation is pretty dire." He sat back again.

Faith seized the opportunity, and swung her legs up from the ground, resting them in Angel's lap. He looked at her, but she had already turned her head.

Barbara took a sip from her cup, and leaned back a little, staring into the middle distance. "Well, about a week ago, we got a rather… unfortunate, let's say, visit. These folks clad in black-" She gestured at them with her hand. "-came in looking for my little Isabel. Real bad types. She was at a friend's house that day, but they stuck around, waiting for her. Called her 'an abomination', and, well, that ain't the kinda thing a mother likes to hear." She clenched her fist. "I managed to pull a bit of a trick on 'em, and they let me out of their sights long enough for me to get the shotgun. Oh, they were tough alright, but no tougher than a proper mama bear, and I scared those brats off."

Angel chimed in, "Brats? Are you saying these were kids?"

"Well, compared to this geezer anywho. Weren't much older than your lady friend here." She pointed to Faith, who looked quite snug in her position, taking sips of her coffee every few seconds. "So, Isabel doesn't sleep her at the moment. Doesn't seem too safe for her. She's staying at a shelter right now, just a few blocks from here."

"Wait. East Hills?" Angel asked.

"Yeah, you know the place?"

"Yes. I… was there a few years back," he said, deciding not to go further into it.

"Well then that's where we need to go. Find this girl, make sure the brats don't make an encore appearance, make her a little badass," Faith said. She slid her legs off Angel and stood up. "Let's do it!"

Barbara joined her on the floor, and extended a finger towards her. "I don't want you bringing any more trouble to my girl. All this stuff about demons and slayers is hard enough for an old hag like me to take, she doesn't need all that."

"Trust me, I'm with a great big organisation of slayers. The only thing I want is for her to be safe as houses." She nodded a few times. "Why do they call it 'safe as houses' by the way? I mean it's not that hard to-"

Angel broke her off. "What she's trying to say is we're here to help. And we can, we've done this before."

Barbara looked at them, reading their faces. She wetted her lips contemplatively, then sighed. "Just… keep her out of trouble, alright?"

"We will," Angel said. He put a hand on Faith's shoulder, and they walked out of the room, the sound of traffic growing louder in their ears as they reached the door.


	3. Activities

A blanket of pitch black velvet had fallen over the city, the air thick enough to cut through. The small group working their way through the streets still gleamed dimly with color from their glowsticks and flashlights being shined from the phones that still had battery remaining. Even through the thick air, the smell of alcohol and other, unidentifiable substances was unmistakable. They talked among themselves, conversation topics being introduced and promptly dropped as they simultaneously forgot what was being said.

The relative stillness of their buzzing was broken by the cocking of two guns in short sequence. They stopped, their blood running cold, as two shadows emerged from an alleyway close by.

"Alright ya' freaks, it's real simple. Put your hands up and you'll leave here breathin', got that?" said one of the figures.

The group nodded in graceless unison, and put their hands up as the figures approached, the guns held to their chests, visibly clammy hands covering the handles with sweat.

The strike came too fast for a proper reaction, and sent one of the figures crashing to the ground. His partner was startled, but sprung to action, pointing the gun at their attacker, a young woman in her late teens.

"Stay out of this, kid. I'm not afraid to use this thing!" he shouted, his clacking teeth betraying the lie.

As the two stood, reading each other, the street echoed with the sounds of quick footsteps as the partygoers had started running.

"Hey can't you listen!?" the man said, pointing the gun back at them.

Just then came a fierce punch to his jaw. As the pain ran through his body like wildfire, the finger he'd had firmly locked around the trigger slipped, firing a shot into the night, the sound of it being immediately followed by a ghastly scream. As the second punch landed, he lost all consciousness, a haunting black shroud coming over his eyes.

As the woman knelt over the body, the sudden quiet let her hear a mess of crying and shouting coming from down the street. Footsteps were moving towards her. Frantically, she rose, and disappeared into the night. In the distance, sirens screeched.

* * *

The day was reaching its late hours, and slowly, the sun was descending below the horizon. They had walked for about 10 minutes, strategically seeking out shadows and covered spaces as they went. Finally, they had reached Crenshaw, where the shelter had its home. Angel stopped in his tracks, and walked over to stand in the shadow of the wall to their right. Faith looked quizzically at him. "What's wrong, A? We're almost there, don't tell me you're tired or something."

"I think you should go in alone." She tilted her head at him. "Do you remember when I said I was here once?" Faith nodded, her expression unchanged. "Truth is, the lady who runs the shelter, Anne, I kinda used her."

Faith pulled slightly back, looking down at the pavement. "Come on, Angel, we all have screws we regret." Her eyes shifted, never meeting his.

"Not like that. I used her trust to take a jab at Wolfram & Hart."

The frown she'd developed turned into more of a ponderous expression. "Well, don't you think she understands? No offense, but the place is _super_ evil."

"Wolfram and Hart is technically the reason this shelter still exists."

Faith sighed, exasperated. "Okay then, but still. You're with them now, shouldn't you be besties?"

"Somehow, I doubt it."

Faith moved in closer. "Look, Angel, I came here because I wanted you. Your help. I know you, and I know that regardless of your past, you're really good at the whole redemption business." Angel didn't respond. "I'm sure we can get this Anne to understand. I need you, Angel, I'm no good at this on my own."

"That's not true, Faith." His expression quickly turned serious.

"Alright, but the gist is, I'm better when I'm with you. Come on, let's go in." She smiled.

Angel looked off to the side, towards the shelter. Looking back at Faith, he stepped away from the wall. He shrugged, and together, they continued down the street.

* * *

There was a smell of pea soup in air, the breeze from the open windows futilely doing battle with it. On the practically ancient TV, the flickering screen told of the latest local atrocities. Only few of those on the worn, green couch were actually following along, the one most enraptured, as always, Anne. _"The victim's condition is stable, but the third culprit is still on the loose. If you have any information, contact-"_ The door opened, and a young woman with thoroughly frazzled hair stepped into the room. Anne turned her head, hovering her head over the backrest of the couch.

"Have a good nap, Carrie?" she asked.

She got only a mumble in response. Carrie walked over, floorboards creaking under her, and sat down next to Anne. Anne opened her mouth as if to ask her something, but she was interrupted by three forceful knocks on the door. She saw one of the teens who helped her with management moving towards the entranceway, but stopped him in his tracks.

"I'll get it," she said. She combed her hair with her fingers, then opened the door. Facing her on the other side were a younger woman and a certain, all-too-familiar vampire.

"What's up?" it came from Faith.

"Angel," Anne said.

"Anne," he replied.

Their eyes met, neither showing much emotion. "What brings you back here?" She leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. "Didn't seem to care much for the place last time you were here. Judging by your actions, that is."

"Things change."

"Do you?"

Angel sighed. He was about to respond, when Faith chimed in. "Look, sis, we're here to help."

"Who's the girl?" Anne asked him, dismissing Faith.

"She's a friend of mine. Look, Anne, the reason we're here is that one of the girls at your shelter is in a lot of danger. And it might not be just her."

Anne stood up straight again, still maintaining a defensive posture. "That might be true, but how am I supposed to trust you? The last time you got me involved in your business the shelter almost went under."

"I was a dark place in my life, Anne." He sighed. "This is important. There's already been a break in at this girl's home, and I'm assuming the people behind it weren't throwing a surprise party."

"You're here for Isabel," she said, more as a statement than a question.

Angel raised an eyebrow, but his face quickly returned to its natural, frowning state. "We want to keep her safe."

Anne took a step closer. "You know what, Angel? I believe that. But I'm not sure you're the kind of person I want to be trying to keep my kids safe."

Faith stepped in front of Angel, sparks flying from her eyes. "Listen here, lady, Angel's the best person on the planet if you want someone kept safe. I used to be a murderous psycho bitch, completely off the rails. There was one guy willing to listen, one guy who for some reason made sure I didn't burn myself out, and he's standing right in front of you." She accentuated her story with exaggerated arm movements, clearly riled up.

Anne's eyes widened as she spoke. "That. None of my kids have… murdered anyone, but I've heard some real horror stories." There was no doubt, the story had gotten to her. Her eyes darted between Angel and Faith, the gears turning in her mind. Her eyes settled on the former.

"You're lucky you've got the company, Angel. Come in, before I change my mind."


	4. Elaboration

"Get up, Izzy! I'm serious, get up!" The mattress creaked and complained beneath the figure lying there, half asleep.

Isabel fought off her desire to drift back to sleep, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand. "Caro? What's going on?"

"We have to get out of here. Someone's found us!" Carrie's voice was dire.

"Who's found us? What are you talking about?"

"These people, they were talking to-"

"Isabel?" came a voice from the doorway. Anne. "There's someone here to talk to you."

Carrie's head jolted around, her eyes scanning behind Anne for the visitors. "What's wrong, Carrie?" she asked.

Carrie's eyes opened wider, as if she was waking up. "Nothing, just waking the sleepyhead," she said, painting on a smile. She kissed Isabel lightly on the cheek, held her head close a few seconds after, and whispered, "Don't tell them anything." Then she got up and walked out the door.

"Where are you going?" Anne asked.

"I just need some fresh air." And she was gone.

Anne shook her head, then turned back to Isabel. "They're waiting in the common area, if you want to talk to them."

Isabel flashed a groggy thumbs up, squinting her eyes.

* * *

The common area was quite a cozy place, despite the wear and tear of the furniture. Around the room were scattered shelves of old VHS' and board games. Covering the windows were curtains adorned with purple and yellow flowers, that wouldn't have seemed out of place 50 years prior.

Faith had claimed an armchair, old and brown, that had released a cloud of smoke around her as she'd sat down. Close to her sat Angel, having found a wooden stool he now slouched on, looking down, having forgotten to leave his brood at home. Around the room sat a selection of shelter teens, reading, watching TV, or having quiet conversations.

Anne entered the room. "Isabel will be out in a minute. A bit of an erratic sleeper," she said.

"Wait, A, what if we've got it wrong? What if she's not a slayer, but a _vampire_?" Faith fluttered her fingers dramatically at Angel.

He sighed, her smirk impossible to miss, even at the corner of his eye. Anne eyed them with interest. He took note of this, and for a moment, they locked eyes, then quickly broke off.

Anne fidgeted with her hands. "You want some soup while you wait? I think the kitchen crew is done."

"We'd love that!" Faith said, not giving Angel a chance to respond.

"Faith, we're not here for soup."

"Look, man, that stuff smells wicked. If wanting that in my mouth is wrong, I don't wanna be right."

Angel raised his eyebrows at her, then turned to Anne. "None for me."

Anne's eyes betrayed exhaustion, but she seemed less tense than before. "Don't worry about it. There are always leftovers, your lady friend won't make a dent."

"She's not-" He cut himself off, having noticed the sudden suspicious lack of blondes in the room.

"Smooth," Faith said, leaning back in the chair she'd claimed. "And I thought you didn't have a history."

"Don't you start."

Angel tapped his fingers rhythmically against the armrest of Faith's chair, his eyes travelling aimlessly around the room. "You could have gotten your own, you know."

He looked at his hand guiltily, then pulled it towards him, letting it rest on his leg. "Sorry," he mumbled.

"Angel, I'm kidding. You need to lighten up." She shook her head and turned away, a smile creeping on to her lips.

The door creaked open, and a young man with messy brown hair walked in, balancing several bowls of soup on a tray. Nearly stumbling at every step, he made his way through the room, placing bowls on convenient surfaces as he went. He attempted to place one of Faith's armrest, but within seconds it tipped over, only saved from falling by her slayer reflexes. A small bit had landed on her sleeve.

"Awfully sorry," he said.

"Eh, I've had worse, uhm-"

"Vincent," he filled in.

"Jeez, come from a Mafia family or something?"

"No, it's just… my name." He looked at his feet.

"Well, consider it a career option, if soup bringing doesn't work out for you."

Vincent looked at her quizzically, then moved along. Through the now open door stepped a half-asleep Isabel, her brown hair in a lazy bun. Angel rose from his stool and walked over to her. "Hello. I'm Angel."

"You're a what?" Isabel said, picking sleep from her eyes.

"No, I- I mean, that's my name."

"If you're already asking questions, we'll be here all day." Faith had gotten up and walked to Angel's side, startling him as she spoke.

Isabel looked at her, almost as if recognising her from somewhere. "And you are?"

"Faith. Faith Lehane. And I was a slayer before it was cool." She looked off to the side for a moment, then locked eyes with Isabel again. "Oh who am I kidding? It was always cool."

Isabel's eyes opened wide. "You- you're- you're a _slayer_?"

"Genuine article, baby. Join the club." She threw out her hands, presenting herself.

Isabel stared, dumbfounded. "What do you mean?"

Faith turned a playful smile on. "You mean you haven't been noticing changes? Hair in weird places? Strange, new desires?"

Angel chimed in. "She's kidding."

"Gee, ya' think?" Faith said. "Look, sis, here's the deal. Little while ago there's a big bad evil, like, real apocalypse level stuff. So to make sure everybody doesn't go bye bye, me and some of the people I tolerate got this juiced up lesbian witch to do some big ol' mojo, and _bam_ , every girl with the magic slayer gene or whatever gets superpowers. And I'm thinking you might fit the bill."

"I guess I have been feeling stronger lately… My mom has talked about the slayer thing, but I never believed her." She looked thoughtful for a moment. "How many of us- them are there?"

"I'unno, couple thousand? Number crunching isn't really my deal. Point is, not a coincidence."

"I'm really- I- this is big. My mom knew a slayer once. Always telling me stories. I'm all dizzy." She stumbled to a chair close by, and sat down.

Faith found herself a chair next to her, Angel still standing where they'd just been, shifting his feet. "I'm with you, you know. When my watcher laid this down on me, I was freaked to high heaven. But you're gonna get something I denied myself."

"And what's that?"

"Community."

Isabel leaned forward in her chair. "Look, this is a lot to take in. I'm not sure I'm ready to be a part of something this big."

"I get that. Still, I want you to know that we're here for you." Faith put a hand on Isabel's shoulder. "Being a hot young banger with wicked punches is sweet and all, but you got yourself a lot of enemies the day that spell was cast. And a lot of friends. Isn't that right, A?"

She looked at where Angel had been standing, but found no sign of him. "Hold on a sec, Izzy." She got up from her chair, and stepped out into the hallway. Standing near the entrance was Angel, a black phone to his ear and a nasty expression on his face.

"No, I told you, call it off!" He got quiet for a moment, looking down. "I... understand. Tomorrow." He sighed and hung up, then knocked the back of his head against the wall behind him.

"What was that?"

"About a client. Let's leave it there." He put the phone in his pocket and stepped closer to Faith.

"You missed a great little monologue in there," she said.

"I'm sorry. Work doesn't let me off the hook much."

"I noticed." She shot him a half frown.

To break the silence growing between them, he walked back into the common area, gesturing her to follow him. When they entered, Isabel was nowhere to be found.

From the other side of the room, Vincent noticed their confusion. "She's smoking out back," he cried.

Faith drummed her fingers against her arm a few times. "We should probably leave her alone, right now. She's got a lot on her mind."

"I think you're right. This might not be something we can help her figure out yet."

Faith smiled. "So dramatic."

They looked at each other, then chuckled for a while.

* * *

The alley was getting darker by the minute, and in it, four figures stood, talking quietly. The tallest of them - a man in his mid-twenties - finished his cigarette, then stubbed it against the brick wall.

"What's going on?" he said. His large, calloused hands grabbed a black ski mask from his pocket, then pulled it over his face.

"She's alone. Ripe for the picking," answered a younger, female voice. She extinguished the light from the orb floating a few centimeters over her open palm, then put it back in her pocket. "Leon's going to love us."

"Alright, we're moving. Let's get this demon bitch while we have the chance," he said.

She sighed. "Let's do it," she said, already on the move.

The others followed close behind, and were soon all headed for the intersecting alley, that made its way through a large swathe of the neighborhood, and past the backside of the East Hills Teen Center.


	5. Strike

Despite the many sets of center doors in the way, the scream that came from out back was impossible to miss. Faith was the first to move, her foot off the ground before she'd even turned. She ran, followed closely by Angel, several more footsteps joining the cacophony further behind them.

They burst out into the alley. On the ground lay a curled up Isabel, two electrodes stuck to her chest. Above her stood one of the figures, holding a taser, his chest heaving. The setting sun covered the alley in shadow, obscuring the four menacing figures crowded around her. Faith stared at them, fuming.

"The other slayer!" shouted one of the figures, a young woman. She stood only a few steps from the door.

Her blow struck the woman in the side of the head, leaving her barely standing. "Name's Faith."

The woman stumbled backwards as two of her associates advanced towards Faith. Angel walked up next to her, the two duos awaiting each other's next move. Faith shook her head and moved in first, catching an attempted punch from one of the figures and twisting his arm around, making a nasty cracking sound. Angel wrestled the other figure back, grabbing both of his arms, and leaving him helpless.

A crowd amassed by the door, Anne and Vincent watching the fight with several other teens. They all stood frozen, seemingly not wanting to get involved, but still wanting to see what happened.

"Angel, the big guy's running!" Faith shouted.

Angel turned his head, and saw the largest of the group carrying Isabel over his shoulder, rushing away. As he went to chase after him, a jolt of electricity brought him to his knees.

"That's what you get," the man he'd just wrestled hissed at him, through gritted teeth.

Faith attempted a punch, but realised her hand wasn't moving. She turned her head to see the woman conjuring a spell, transparent tentacles slowly grabbing hold of her. As she tried to force her way towards the woman, her body was thrown back, hitting the wall behind her and sinking down to a sitting position, eyes closed.

She pushed herself back to her feet, looking down the alley. Three of the attackers were on the run. "Come on, Angel, let's g-" she fell to her knees, grimacing from pain.

Angel was at the other end of the alley, with his hands firmly grasping the scruff of the neck of the man with a twisted arm. "Where are they going?" he barked. His voice was gravelly and chilling.

"You're not getting a word out of me, demon scum!"

Angel's face warped itself into a horrifying demonic visage. "So you know." He flashed a hideous smile. "Then you must also know that this is the last time I'm going to ask. Where. Are. They. Going?"

The man was silent as the grave.

Angel stared into his eyes for a few seconds, then rose, defeated. His face returned to its original state, and he sighed. Faith had gotten up again, and was looking at the two. Angel reached into his pocket and took out his phone.

"Angel, what are you doing?" Faith asked.

He pressed a few buttons, then held the phone up to his ear.

"Angel, you're not doing this."

"There's a group of thugs with a hostage slayer moving through Crens-" His hand was knocked back by Faith, but he managed to hold on to the phone. She reached for it, but he grabbed her arm with his free hand, then put the phone back to his ear. "-Moving through Crenshaw. Send a team to find and apprehend them. No casualties."

"Angel!" she roared.

His eyes widened at the fierceness of her voice. He turned his head towards her. "What am I supposed to do?"

"Not call your goons on these people we barely know anything about? Those guys are _evil_ , E-V-I-L, dude. You're lucky if they don't kill everyone!"

He moved his face closer to her. "Killing humans has been off the table for a while, Faith. See, this is the kind of thing I can do with this position. I can make sure these resources aren't used for evil."

"And you just trust that!? You're not that special, A. First time you really disappoint them and everything you're trying goes out the window. You can't just-"

Behind them, Anne cleared her throat. "I'm sorry, did you lovebirds somehow forget that there is a girl in serious danger or what?"

Angel turned towards her. "I have my people on it. Don't worry."

"Your people? What people?"

Faith looked at her, spite flaring up in her eyes. "Oh, of course. You don't know, do you? Angel here is the proud CEO of a little venture downtown. Name's Wolfram and Hart."

Anne's mouth stood agape, and her eyes glazed over. She stood in silence for a moment, then snapped back to reality. "You're WHAT!?"

* * *

The sounds of fighting and yelling was still ringing in their ears, even as they made their way far from the East Hills Teen Center. Gradually, it was overtaken by a cacophony of traffic, as they got closer to the road. The man at the front stopped.

"Alright, guys, let's take a breather. I think they're far enough behind us."

The woman had taken off her ski mask further back, her auburn locks dancing wildly in the wind. She sighed. "I suppose. I would rather we finished our mission, but we can take a minute for you to recuperate."

"Real sorry, but some of us are mortal, Alex." His slender, pale arms wiped a bit of non-existent sweat off his forehead.

"Yes, Benjamin, it must be so hard."

"Both of you, shut up," the larger man said. "We're going to end up like John back there if we're not on our guard." He turned his head back and forth, listening intently.

"I hear it too," Alex said.

A few dozen meters from the three, a group of heavily armed agents rushed around the corner.

Ben hit himself in the face with an open palm. "Aw, what the fuck!?"

"Who are they?" Alex said.

"Look like trouble."

"Nothing escapes you, does it, David?"

The group sprinted into a neighboring alley, where David dropped Isabel's body. He pulled a gun up from his pocket, cocking it in a swift motion. Ben tried imitating it, but fumbled with the gun, almost dropping it. Alex stretched her fingers, and got into a limber position.

"Whoever they are, they're about to get real hurt," Ben said, forcing a smirk.

* * *

"You risked my livelihood, the well-being of all these poor kids, more than you had any right to, just to get a hit in at Wolfram and Hart. And you _dare_ come back here _running the place_!?" Anne's tone was cold and biting.

Angel shifted his feet, his eyes never meeting hers.

"I thought that, if nothing else, you had _principles_!"

Angel's eye twinged slightly. "You're making a lot of assumptions. I was offered this position, and I took it, because I could bring principles to Wolfram and Hart. We don't have a chance of ending them, so I did the next best thing. Try to bring some kind of good there."

Anne stared at him, dumbfounded. "So you gave up? Decided the fight wasn't worth it? 'If you can't beat 'em, join 'em'? Is that your new slogan?"

"I didn't give up the fight. I started fighting smarter."

Faith rubbed her temples. "Are you listening to yourself, A?"

"Look, I promise you, I put thought into it. If I can control this, I can do more good than I ever had the opportunity to do before." He held up his phone. "And in a moment, I'm going to get a call, telling me one of your kids is safe and sound."

The fury in Anne's eyes had replaced itself with resigned melancholy. "I wish I could believe you, Angel. You don't seem like a bad guy, but every time I meet you, you're making a new mistake."

Angel opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

He looked towards the door. Many of the group had gone in, presumably to hide. Some still stood in the doorway, dire looks on their faces, talking amongst themselves. Vincent was on the phone, explaining the situation to the police. As the evening had crept in on the city, so had a blanket of clouds, that now covered the sky, grey as ash. Angel covered his face with his hands.

* * *

Alex lay beaten against the wall. Her allies were keeping up the fight, though it looked to be a losing one. The agents hadn't fired their guns, but they were still far better equipped than the trio, and merciless in their fighting. And as she lay there, she realised that the attention of the agents was firmly on the others. This was her chance. She crawled towards Isabel's body frantically, her hand reaching out as she moved.

"Stop right there! Leave the girl alone!" one of the agents yelled, having turned towards her, gun raised.

She grabbed the sleeve of the body, then turned her head to look at the agent.

"Let go of the girl!" the agent shouted, his finger on the trigger.

"Saltare!" she roared.

She and the body faded into dust and dissipated, leaving only emptiness behind.


	6. Loosen

"Could you pass me that?"

Spike snapped out of his daydream, switching his focus from the middle distance to Fred, furrowing her brow at his inattentiveness. He sat up straight in his cold, metal chair, putting on a facade of having merely briefly lost focus. "Pass you the what?"

"The thingama-what's-it, that one, there!" She pointed to the table behind him.

Spike followed her finger, but found the path leading to a mess of various bits of equipment, with no indication as to which Fred was looking for. He walked over to the table, and picked up a piece of equipment uncertainly. He looked to Fred for approval, and she shook her head.

"No, you see, it's the-"

Wesley was holding the tool, which resembled a screwdriver with a crystal adorning its top. "I believe you're looking for this?"

"You're such a sweetheart. Thanks!" she said, and walked over to get it from him.

Spike scowled at Wesley, but as if to rescue him, there was a knock on the door.

"Come in," it came from Fred.

The door opened, and a tall, green figure entered. "Well how about that, I thought I heard three of my favourite people doing science."

"Hi, Lorne," Spike mumbled, not looking at him.

"Well, someone's being a grouch. What's got the most fabulous vampire in W&H in the dumps?"

Fred broke in. "He didn't get to say hi to Faith, and now he's helping me out, but I'm not sure he's enjoying it too much."

"Hey now, I always enjoy helping you. Just don't much fancy being overshadowed by the people who actually know anything about your work."

Lorne nodded, absentmindedly. "Tough break, Spikey." He turned to Fred "What did you say?"

* * *

A silence had descended on the alley behind the center. Angel's phone was still firmly clasped in his hand - unassuming - as though it hadn't been the bearer of the news they now wrestled with. A few drops of rain fell as a warning shot, threatening a storm.

Anne stared into the middle distance, firmly stuck in place. "She's gone. One of my kids. Gone." She said it almost matter-of-factly, little emotion showing in her voice.

"I'm sorry. I could have saved her," Angel said.

Anne stood with crossed arms, expressionless. She looked at Angel, but there was no malice in her eyes. "The police will be here soon. I think it'd be best if you left before then."

Angel nodded. "I'm sorry," he repeated.

"I know," she said.

Faith watched, as Angel turned and made his way away from the alley. She understood why he wore the coat now. It was only clear when he was walking away. It was a barrier, something separating him from his mistakes and his guilt. Something that let him leave.

She looked around at the group left in the alley, studying the shifting feet rubbing against the ground, that was slowly being covered by the rain. As she raised her eyes they met Anne's, but neither found what they were looking for. She made a vague gesture, and mumbed a farewell that she was fairly certain nobody heard. She saw Anne turn away from her, frowned, then ran up next to Angel.

He looked at her, quizzically. "You don't have to come with me," he said.

"Yeah? Well, I'm gonna."

He looked ahead. "I won't stop you, I suppose."

She sighed. "I'm sorry for yelling at you back there."

"I deserved it." He stopped in his tracks. "I really thought this would work out, you know."

She stopped and turned to look at him. "Yeah, I don't doubt it."

"I can't believe I let a girl get taken like that."

She breathed deeply. "You know what? We're gonna find her. You and me, the big damn heroes. L.A. won't know what hit it. We give the police tonight, then we strike."

He looked at her, a sliver of a smile creeping unto his lips. "I appreciate it, I really do, but I'm not sure I'm a good fit for your mission. You know what my life is like now."

"Yes, and I also know that that's not all you are. I still wanna do this, Angel." She put her hand on his shoulder. "Promise me one thing, though."

"Anything."

"Wolfram and Hart stays out. I respect if you have to keep doing… whatever it is you do there, but the slayer stuff is between us. Deal?"

Angel nodded, slowly. "Deal."

"Alright. Now let's get back to base, before we're completely soaked. We're gonna figure this out."

* * *

Drops of fallen rain dripped slowly from them, standing in the lobby of Wolfram and Hart, looking at each other. It had only been hours since they'd left, yet it felt like an eternity. The white now stood in contrast to the world outside, which had been covered by the dark shroud of storm. It was impossible to see clearly with the heavy lines of rain hammering down on the pavement, blocking the view. Their eyes shifted from the windows to each other, neither moving from where they stood.

Angel broke the silence. "Are you okay? Being back here, I mean."

Faith looked down. "I'll be honest, I'm not a fan. But for now, I'm ok. You're here too."

Angel smiled. "My place is just upstairs. I think we've earned some rest."

"Yeah." She put a hand on his shoulder, and they walked.

It was a silent trip. The hallways and their endless white felt soothing somehow, and a comfortable quiet was settling in the minds of the two, even after what the evening had brought. They stood, looking at each other for a while when they reached the door to Angel's apartment. He opened it slowly.

"WELCOME!" came a chorus as they entered. In the middle of the room was his table, on which were several drinks, as well as bowls of snacks. Around it, Fred, Wesley, Gunn, Spike, and Harmony sat. They rose from their seats and walked over to greet the arrivals.

Angel and Faith stood, mouth agape, watching the scene. Angel stepped closer. "It's not that I don't appreciate the surprise party, but how did you get in here?"

Lorne was the first to walk towards the two. "Relax, Angelcakes, Wes had a spare key." He walked right past Angel to stand in front of Faith. "Oh, aren't you a sight for sore demon eyes. How've you been Faithie?"

"Alright. Stopped an apocalypse, started an international supergirl organization, made out with a high school principal. Same old, same old."

Lorne nodded enthusiastically. "That sounds just great. I wanted to give you a proper welcoming to L.A., and Tall-dark-and-brood sure wasn't gonna do it, so I set up this little shindig."

"I appreciate it. You really didn't have to."

"I think you'll find I did. And any chance to make seabreezes is to be taken. If I ever write a philosophy book, you can bet your behind that's going on the first page."

She chuckled. "If you do, I'm buying a signed copy."

Gunn stepped up to her. "Good to have you back, slayer." A half smile formed on his lips.

"Good to be back… Lawyer, apparently?" She gestured towards his suit.

"Right on the money. Wonders of magic, huh?"

"No way, they made you a lawyer? Talk about inhuman."

Gunn chuckled. "It's a good gig. Glad to have something to my name besides punching demons."

"Punching demons still sounds funner to me, but you do you, G-man."

"G-man?"

"Too much time with Buffy. My wit is rusty."

Fred came over and attempted to give her a hug, something she didn't realise until it was slightly too late. Fred pulled back, and they held an awkward eye contact for a few seconds. "It's good to see you!" She fiddled with her fingers a bit. "I know I... I saw you earlier but, I mean, y'know, it's still... good."

Faith couldn't help but chuckle. "I appreciate it."

Spike stood in the back of the group, looking down slightly. Faith noticed him, and her eyes got wide. "Spike! Andrew told us you were still kicking, but boy is it weird to see it for myself. How'd death treat you?"

Spike looked at her, then turned his head a bit, not-so-subtly striking a bit of a pose. "Well, could have been worse. Not a lot, but I like to look at the bright side of things."

Faith scoffed lightly. "Uh huh."

"I'm a very gentle, positive guy." He gestured at nothing in particular. "Just don't show it much around you buggers."

Faith looked from Spike and over to Harmony, who was staring at nothing in particular, none too plussed about the situation. "Hey, you're the secretary, right?"

She looked at Faith. "That's what I am, huh? Just 'the secretary'? I am a proud and strong vampire woman!" she said. Her index finger swung as she spoke. "And now that I think about it, maybe you're not the best person to be saying that to."

"Maybe not, yeah. I suppose Angel trusts you though."

Angel chimed in from the side. "Well, I wouldn't say that. But she's safe, for the moment."

"Devil you know, huh?"

"Something like that."

Lorne, noticing a break in the conversation, gestured the group towards the table, and handed drinks to the arrivals. "Since Caritas got pretty well-and-busted, I haven't had nearly enough opportunities to make drinks, so I made these extra special. You'd better enjoy them, or else."

Faith played with her glass. "That sounds great. Vaguely threatening, but great."

Lorne called for a toast, and for a moment, the sound of glasses clinking together filled the room. It echoed, but quickly died again, and all that remained was chatter.

Fred spoke up. "It's really nice to have us all together like this. And Faith is just icing on the... friend... cake."

"Well, not all of us," Faith said. "Where did Cordy go off to? Is she doing something important?"

Suddenly, the room was silent as the grave.

Faith furrowed her brow. "Guys?"


	7. Remembering

Faith found him on the bed, expressionless. The room was sparsely, but finely decorated, and the bed itself was far too big for one person. He looked so much smaller sitting on it. She took a few slow steps, reading his reaction, and he gave her an empty look, then swung his head slightly to the side, inviting her. She sat herself down next to him on the bed. Even with all she had on her mind, the comfort and luxury was striking. To think Angel was living like this.

"Hey," she finally said.

"Hey," he replied.

"I'm sorry about what happened in there. I didn't mean to-"

"It's fine. How could you have known? I certainly wasn't going to tell you. It all seemed to fit too well. It was too good to break."

Faith eyed him, and raised an eyebrow. Then her head returned to a slumped position. "I'm... I'm sorry about what happened, too. I know she meant a lot to you."

"She did. Does. Of course it's something I've had to confront many times as a risk. The world doesn't get saved without sacrifice. Yet... this price, her, it feels like far too much."

"I get it. I think I do, anyway." There was a period of silence, and she started rubbing the side of her leg. "How did it happen?"

Angel opened his mouth as if to answer, then suddenly his expression changed, as if he'd seen a ghost. "Well- what it was was..."

"Oh, I'm sorry. You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."

He decided to take the opportunity to get avoid explaining. Thoughts flurried in his mind. Obviously the others didn't know about Connor, and, by extension, Jasmine. So what happened to Cordy? He shook his head. "I'll tell you everything. I just need to figure it all out myself, first."

Faith rubbed her arm as the silence grew. She had to do something. She slung her arm over his shoulders, letting her hand rest on the one on his other side. He tensed up for a moment, but said nothing. "I'm here. And I'm not leaving any time soon. You ever need to talk, or whatever."

Angel let himself calm down, and breathed deeply. "Thanks," he said.

His gaze shifted quickly around the room, not quite sure what to focus on. He slowly let himself lean into her, if only for a bit. Now it was her time to be startled. Though she'd always known Angel was softer than he let on, it came as a surprise to see it so plainly. They sat like that for a while, slowly synchronising their breaths, unconsciously.

The door was slowly opened, letting in the living room light. "Angel?" came Wesley's voice from the opening.

As fast as lightning, the two let go of each other and sat up straight. "Yeah?" said Angel.

Wesley opened the door fully, and looked towards the bed. His eyes darted between the two, as if deducing a mystery. "Nothing. Just wanted to... check on you. You left rather suddenly."

"I'm fine, Wes. You don't have to worry about me."

"Alright. Are you two coming back, or should I close the door again?" There seemed to be a sliver of a smile on his lips.

They exchanged looks. "Coming back," Angel said.

He rose, waiting for Faith to do the same, then walked back into the room, where he was met with warm smiles, though it seemed as if everyone had suddenly stopped talking when they entered.

They sat down again, same places as before, shifting just inches away from each other. All around the table, people seemed to be seeking for ways to break the silence. Faith cleared her throat. "These are really good drinks, Lorne."

He smiled. "Thanks, Faithie. I'm pretty good at them, aren't I?" His fingers interlocked, and he rested his head on them contemplatively. "A pretty good bartender."

That was a bust. Faith downed the rest of her seabreeze in a few gulps, then set the glass on the table. "It's- it's good, being back in L.A. Even with all that's been going on."

Gunn looked at her. "Going on?"

"Oh yeah, we haven't told you. We went out looking for newly activated slayers. I'm told Andrew filled you in on that whole thing." They nodded. "Well, we found one. Isabel. She was staying at this shelter downtown-"

"Hold on, hold on. Not East Hills, right?" Gunn asked.

"Yeah, actually."

"No way! How's old Anne doing? We go back."

"Well, not amazing right now. Isabel was kidnapped."

Around the room, faces went pale. "By who?" Gunn said, his voice suddenly cold.

Angel answered, "We don't know yet. It was a group. We caught one of them, but I couldn't get anything out of him."

Wesley looked thoughtful. "Well, our intelligence should be able to give us a few leads. I'll talk to th-"

"No Wolfram and Hart," Faith said, bluntly. "They're staying out of this."

"Faith, you do realise that we can save this girl far easier with what's available to us through the firm."

"I don't remotely trust the goons here. I won't have them involved in this. There's too much at risk to let Evil: The Company start making moves."

"Faith, we didn't come here without a reason. This is exactly the kind of case we wanted to let Wolfram and Hart help us with. We're here for a reason."

"Yeah? Well, it's a pretty bad one. You guys aren't evil, at least, I really hope not, but Wolfram and Hart is. I trust them about as far as I can throw them." She paused. "Which isn't very far, I don't imagine?"

Spike leaned back in his chair. "I don't know about you lot, but I think the bird's got a bit of a point, there. I'll help you out. Bound to be more interesting than hanging around here."

Faith looked around the table. "You guys in?"

Gunn nodded. "I'm down. I'm missing the hero business. Plus, if they've got beef with Anne, they've got beef with me."

"I'm with you too!" said Fred.

"Much as I think you're looking at this the wrong way, I want to help," said Wesley, after a bit of thought.

The group looked to Lorne.

"Huh? I didn't think I was ever in the question. If you don't think I'm going to help my favourite people stop whatever evil's terrorising L.A this week, you've got another thing coming."

Faith smiled. "I'm glad to hear it. We'll start tomorrow. We're going to find Isabel, figure out who the assholes who kidnapped her are, and bring them down. Whoever they are, they must be real dumb to be picking on slayers."

Angel spoke up. "We have to be careful about this. The group we faced had a very powerful witch on their side, and I doubt they were the big guns. And the man we captured wouldn't say a word. Whoever they are, they're ambitious, powerful, and dedicated. That's a dangerous combination."

"Hey! Isn't anybody gonna ask me if I wanna help?" said Harmony.

Angel sighed. "Do you?"

"Well, no, not really. Just kind of felt left out."

"We might need paperwork done, if that helps."

She grimaced and crossed her arms.

After the talk, it seemed a weight was lifted from the group, and soon, laughter returned to the room. They talked a while longer, until they could barely keep themselves awake. Spike and Harmony had left early, but not soon after, the other guests, too, decided it was time to go.

"See you tomorrow!" Fred said, as they parted in the doorway, and her and Wesley walked down the hall.

When the two were a bit further away, Gunn leaned in towards Faith and Angel. "You guys think something's off about those two?"

"They're banging," Faith said. "Oh, are they ever."

Angel leaned himself against the doorframe. "Let's not jump to conclusions."

Faith looked at him, tilting her head.

"Look, maybe there's something there. But it's not our business."

Gunn chuckled. "Anyway, I should be off too. Long day tomorrow, it seems."

"Seeya in a bit, G-man," said Faith, and gave him a fist bump.

He waved to them while walking away, and Faith and Angel went into the apartment again.

"This place got quiet all of a sudden," she said, walking into the living room.

Angel closed the door, and walked in to join her, "I'm used to it. Not used to this much of a mess though," he said, gesturing towards the table.

Faith walked over, and leaned herself against the sofa. "I am, trust me. If you saw the places I've lived, you would freak."

"Speaking of living places, we still need to get you somewhere to sleep." He leaned against the wall.

She let herself fall back unto the couch, her brown hair spreading itself messily around behind her. "Get me somewhere? Can't I crash here?"

Angel looked towards the bedroom. "Sure, if that's what you want. You can take the bed in there. It's comfortable."

"And where would you sleep?"

He gestured towards the couch she was sitting on, shrugging.

"No way, José. That bed is huge. I appreciate the offer, but I'm not letting you condemn yourself to the couch like some cartoon stuck in the 50s."

He shifted his feet. "I don't want to infringe."

"It's a California king bed, Angel. I promise we won't touch."

He looked at her and she wiggled her eyebrows suggestively at him. He scoffed and averted his eyes, much to her amusement, then mumbled something inaudible.

"I'm going to assume that was a yes." She smiled. "Oh, you don't sleep naked, do you?"


	8. Nightfall

The door creaked open, Carrie's movements deliberate and slow. Sneaking inside, it struck her. Something was wrong. From the common area shone a light that illuminated the wall opposite the opening to the room, and inside, she could make out a quiet conversation. Who would even be up so late? Aside from her, she supposed.

Careful not to make herself noticed, she walked over to the doorway, leaning her head over the edge, just enough for one eye to see through. In the room were three people. Anne sat on a chair, head slumped and clutching a cup of coffee. Opposite her, Barbara sat in the armchair, her eyes red and her face twisted in a sorrowful grimace.

Vincent, who stood leaning against a shelf next to Anne, lifted his head as she looked inside, discovering her quickly. "Carrie?" he called.

She shook, startled, then apprehensively let herself come into view. Anne rose and hurried over to her, then embraced her forcefully. Carrie put one arm around her. "What's going on?" she asked. "Did someone die?"

Anne pulled back from the embrace, and her eyes met Carrie's. "There's no easy way to say this, Carrie." She clenched her fist, barely keeping her cool. "Isabel's been taken. I'm so sorry."

"Taken!? As in kidnapped!?"

Anne nodded.

She fumed. "What kind of sick- Tell m- I'm gonna kill those-"

Anne put a hand on her shoulder. "Please, Carrie. We're going to figure it out. We're going to find her."

"And I'm going to MURDER SOMEONE!" She swung her fist full force in the wall next to her, knocking a sizable hole in it.

Anne jumped back, her face going pale, and Vincent stepped up next to her, an arm outstretched. "Carrie. Caroline. Please calm down. This isn't going to help anybody."

Barbara shot in. "I'm with the girl. Whoever these bastards are, they should pay."

"Of course," Vincent said. "Of course they should. But we can't do anything right now-"

"Maybe you can't, but some of us have guts, Vince! You pathetic-"

"You're gonna do what? Go private eye on them? Barge into their house? Sounds like a plan, just help me think of something snappy for your headstone before you go."

"Vincent!" Anne snapped.

"That's how it is, huh?" Carrie said. "Alright." Without another word, she walked out of the room, headed towards the exit.

"Aww, Carrie, come on," he said, but the only response he got was the door slamming hard.

Anne gave him a glare that made him happy looks couldn't kill, then walked back to her chair.

There was a period of silence as everyone looked slowly around the room, only avoiding each other. Vincent shifted his feet where he stood.

Anne was the one to break the silence, turning back to Barbara. "This is an awful thing to have happen, and I want you to know, that whatever we can do to help we'll-"

Barbara rose, pushing back the armchair. "That's sweet, but save it. I don't need anything but my baby girl back. If the police can't do it, by God, I'll find someone who can. Nobody touches my Isabel and gets away with it." She walked towards the door.

"Nice seeing you, Barb," Vincent muttered as she passed him.

She put a hand on his shoulder. "You be watchful now, okay? You're a good kid, Vincent. Keep the others safe."

"I'll make sure of it. Anne will too."

Barbara nodded, then made her way out of the shelter.

"Guess it's just us then," Vincent said, leaning against the doorframe. "You've been up for a while; You should get some rest."

Anne stared into her by now cold coffee. "It's not easy resting with all this happening. This was one of the kids under my watch, Vincent. She was my responsibility."

"I've never met anyone more dedicated than you. You can't beat yourself up over this."

"That's sweet, but it's on me, no matter how much I don't like it." She stood up. "I just wonder where she is right now."

* * *

Isabel opened her eyes, blinking a few times. The room slowly came into focus around her, but her throbbing headache made it hard to think. How long had she been out? The memories clawed at the inside of her subconscious, desperate to break out. Shadows in the alley. The cold breeze. That woman.

She tried to hold on to the details, but flashes of the shock made it nearly impossible. Her arms shook as she lifted herself with them. Her eyes met a brick wall, and she started to sensed a damp air against her. She looked down, and found herself on a bed. It was old and, aside from the mattress, covered in dust.

"You're up."

Isabel jumped, turning her head towards the voice. On a small, wooden chair sat the woman from the alley.

"You- what did you- why am I-" Isabel sputtered, pulling back.

"Alright, relax. You're fine," Alex said, rubbing her temples.

"Why did you kidnap me?" she forced out, through stilted breaths.

Alex looked at her with harsh eyes, saying nothing.

Isabel stood up and clenched her fist. "Tell me," she said, coldly.

"Don't bother. Weakening curse."

Isabel threw a punch, but Alex caught it in her palm. She didn't seem like a strong woman, yet it was almost effortless, like grabbing a petulant child.

"Told you so."

She sat down again, defeated. Her eyes sought out the door to Alex' side, but there was no chance of reaching it, considering who was in the room with her.

"He'll be here soon," Alex said.

"Who?"

Alex opened her mouth to answer, when the door opened. In the doorway stood a tall, haggard man in the early part of his life's autumn, with long silver hair in a loose ponytail. A brown leather duster covered his body, nearly reaching his boots, which were a faded black - old but well kept. He walked with an odd sort of grace as he moved towards the bed, casting a glance at Alex, who'd gone quiet, with an odd look on her face. Not quite fear, but something close. He nodded at her, and she rose and walked out of the room. He took the seat she'd left, bringing himself to Isabel's level.

"Hello, Isabel," he said, his voice hoarse and deep, but softer than she expected.

"What do you want?" she said, curtly. Her body was shaking, but she held together well, covering her worry with a serious frown.

The man nodded slowly, scratching his dark grey beard, each action carrying great deliberateness. "Of course." He sighed. "I truly am sorry for the circumstances of our meeting, but we have our reasons."

"Reasons for kidnapping me?"

"Yes," he said, matter-of-factly. "A dreadful curse has befallen you, Isabel."

"Curse? What curse?" she said.

He rose, and began to pace the small room. "The curse of the slayer, now so carelessly spread to the winds of the world. We seek to rid you of it."

She looked at him quizzically. "Curse of the slayer? What are you talking about?"

"I'm afraid so, Isabel." He stopped by a piece of wall that was slowly cracking off. "A demonic force has latched on to your soul. We can free you of it, but we will need time." He walked over and knelt by the bed.

Isabel threw her arm to the side. "So am I your prisoner?"

"I wouldn't say so."

"Am I free to go then?"

"Regretfully, no. It's an unfortunate situation, but it won't be forever."

"That still means I'm a prisoner."

The man sighed. "You will not come to harm while you are here. I promise it will get better soon." He rose from his kneeling position and gave her a tired smile.

"Wait. Who are you?"

"My name is Leon. Let's leave it there, for now." He opened the door. "Rest easy, girl," he said, and she was alone.

* * *

Alex sat quietly, looking into the middle distance with her head rested on her right hand, cupping her chin. The common area - as one could call it - was cold and damp, though that was to be expected for an abandoned building with insulation from at least a decade ago. She was deep in thought but snapped awake as the door opened and two people entered. They were perhaps the last ones she expected.

"Well, looks like the team bitch made it home safe. Or was it witch? Hard to tell," said David.

"I was sure you guys were done for! How did you make it?"

Ben was about to answer, but David interrupted him, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Leon made short work of those bastards. It turns out some of us actually help our team, imagine that."

"I'm sorry, alright! I had to get out of dodge. Especially considering we had the girl."

"And she's more important than us? You're lucky we didn't get snatched like John."

"Oh please, David. I'm flattered that you think I could take 10 soldiers, but you overestimate me. And I'm sad about John too, y'know!"

David shook his head, still fuming. "I'm gonna get a drink," he said, and moved down the hallway to the side of the room, leaving Ben alone, scraping his feet.

"I mean, I wish you'd helped us out, but I'm not mad or anything," he said. "Don't listen too much to Dave."

She gave him a weak smile. "Thank you, Benjamin."

"You can call me Ben, y'know," he said, smiling at her. He quickly turned his head away, flushed. "I- uh, I'm going to go check on the big guy."

Alex sighed. "Why do you still hang out with him?"

"He can be really cool. Just doesn't like showing it. I think he's still sad that Noah left."

Alex scoffed. "That makes one of us. I'm glad we scared that psycho off."

Ben shrugged, and looked as if he were about to say something, but stopped. The door on the other side of the room opened quietly, and Leon stepped out.

Ben beamed. "Leon! Hey, thanks for bailing us out there. That was a close call."

Leon nodded tiredly. "It was. I don't know who those men were, but let's hope we don't see more of them."

"How did the Miller girl respond?" asked Alex.

"Poorly. I can't imagine the past hours have been fun for her."

Alex nodded sullenly. "I'm sorry we had to go there."

"What we do is dangerous, Alexis. We have to stay safe. I understand you, please don't doubt that." With that, he made his way to the door David and Ben had come through. "Now I must leave you. Please stay safe until I return."

Ben and Alex nodded at him.

"Well, seeya tomorrow then, Al," Ben said.

"Yeah. Tomorrow," she replied.

He walked down the hallway with his shoulders firmly back, transparently posturing. He stopped as soon as she couldn't see him anymore, breathing a sigh of relief.

Alex shook her head, alone once more. She then rose and made her way to the sleeping quarters. It had been a long night.

* * *

"Angel?" Faith muttered.

He turned himself around, looking at the outline of her face in the darkness of the room. "Yes?"

"We're going to do this."

He let out a quiet, singular chuckle. They lay close, even with the available space, their heads almost threatening to touch as they spoke. "Of course we are," he said. "Goodnight."

Even in the dark, he could tell she was smiling. "Goodnight. I missed you, you know."

"I missed you too."


	9. Investigation

Angel stood in a white room that seemed to go on infinitely in each direction. How long had he been there? He looked around, trying to find something, anything - A way out, perhaps. But he couldn't make anything out in the expanse. He took a step, and it felt like he was walking on a cloud, though solid enough that he felt secure standing there. He began walking, then running, then sprinting. Eventually the expanse had to end.

From nowhere, a silhouette appeared on the horizon. He pushed himself further than seemed possible as he ran. Was there someone else really here with him? As he came closer, he realised it was a woman, standing with her back turned to him. She had long brown hair, and looked as if she, too, was trying to find something in the white. He moved towards her, but she didn't seem to get closer anymore, merely staying in place.

He shouted out, but the words sounded like they were coming from somewhere distant.

She turned her head when she heard his voice, and they quickly locked eyes.

The form was faint, but impossible to mistake. "Cordy?"

She smiled at him sadly, then turned and started walking away.

Suddenly, he felt himself get dragged back, falling onto his back and sliding along the floor.

"Wait!" he called, but she didn't react, moving still further away. That was when he realised the ground was sloping. He slid slowly downwards at first, then faster and faster until he was falling straight down. The white came in flashes as he rapidly blinked his eyes, plummeting ever deeper into the abyss. In an instant, he lost all control of his body, and his senses followed soon after.

There was only the white. Only the fall.

* * *

He was awakened by the sound of footsteps. Sitting up, he shot a look to the other side of the bed, and found it empty. He felt an odd bubbling in his stomach, recalling the evening before. The morning light shone through the shudders and bathed the room in a dim light, letting his eyes adjust as he came fully to. The dream came back to him in flashes. The white, the fall, Cordelia. It had all seemed so… real, much more so than even the dreams Eve had forced on him. Was somebody playing him? He shook it off and got himself dressed. He opened the door, pulling down his shirt, and entered the living room.

"Up early, Faith?" he muttered.

His head appeared from inside the shirt to find Faith and Fred sitting across from each other. Fred had just stopped typing something on her laptop when he'd entered, and they were both looking at him.

"Morning," Faith said, barely suppressing a chuckle.

Only his perpetual paleness saved him from making his embarrassment public as he walked over to the table, leaning nonchalantly against the chair Faith was sitting in.

"What are you guys up to?" he said, eager to move the conversation along.

Fred cleared her throat. "Right now, we're looking at kidnapping cases from the past couple of months to see if we can find anything we can link back to the people you guys fought yesterday."

"Anything so far?"

Faith leaned back. "Mostly unknown perps. We've found a few cases that might be relevant, but there's no way to tell."

"Did you put Gunn and Wes to work?"

"Yeah. They're headed to the alley, maybe the taze brigade dropped something."

Angel furrowed his brow. "Didn't the police already search the place?"

Faith shrugged. "No harm checking."

Angel pushed himself up from his resting state and began pacing.

Faith let out a sigh of exasperation. "None of these get us anywhere. Do none of these journalists know anything!?" She rose to join Angel on the floor.

They stood in silence for a moment, when Angel spoke. "I'm thinking-"

"Dangerous, that."

"I know you don't want to involve the company, but I haven't gotten a report from the strike team yet. They didn't catch the…" he waved his arm in circles.

"Taze brigade."

He shot her a look but continued. "But they may have found something else out. The paramilitary division doesn't report directly to me, but I think a little chat with the squad leader might be beneficial."

Faith nodded. "Might be, yeah. Wanna do good cop, bad cop?"

"We're not interrogating the man, Faith. He works for me."

Faith frowned. "Woulda' been fun."

* * *

She tapped the table in an uncertain rhythm, examining the room they were sat in. Angel's office was so unlike him that it was jarring, especially from behind the desk. There was a sterile feel to the place and even the air felt… unnerving.

"You feel powerful from behind here," she said, turning her face towards Angel, who was leaning against the front of the desk.

"At first," he said, curtly.

"God, aren't military guys supposed to be punctual?"

"He'll be here. He doesn't usually report to my office."

Faith leaned back, staring up at the ceiling when the door opened and her attention was dragged back. In the doorway stood a tall, rugged man of about 30, saluting towards her, immediately turning towards Angel when he realised it was her behind the desk.

"Officer Dana Mueller reporting in, Sir." came his shaky voice, fighting to keep itself under control.

Angel breathed bemusedly. "You aren't in trouble, Officer. Sit down." He gestured with his arm to a chair slightly to the side of the room.

The man's face grew puzzled as he made his way to the chair, sitting down slowly, as if expecting to spring some trap as he did so.

Angel moved to a chair opposite him and sat down. "I want to talk to you about last night's mission."

Mueller was growing paler by the second. "Sir, I know we messed up-"

"That doesn't matter. I want to know what you found out about the attackers."

"The ones we were apprehending?"

"No, the other attackers, the ones in Germany. What do you think?" Faith jabbed.

Mueller turned to look at her, then back to Angel, evidently confused. Angel's face remained unchanged. "Well…" he began, "they were young, early 20s would be my guess for all of them. Except the old guy that is."

"The old guy?"

"Of course, sorry. They escaped with the help of an older man, a warlock."

"Did you hear them mention any names?"

He considered it a second. "Two. Dave was the name of the big guy, the other man yelled out for him."

"And the other one?"

"The warlock. His name is Leon."

"Ring a bell, A?"

He shook his head. "No. I don't remember knowing anyone with that name. And my memory's usually pretty good."

"He seemed human," Mueller continued. "He was using a magic orb of some kind. Opened a portal through the side of a building, but we couldn't trace them through it."

"That sounds like pretty advanced stuff," Faith said.

"It is. I'm surprised there's a warlock that powerful in L.A and we know nothing about him."

"Have you found anyone through the name?" Faith asked.

"There wasn't anyone in our databases that fit. He's an unknown."

Angel interlaced his fingers and rested the lower part of his face on them. _Leon_. "That will be all, Officer."

Mueller nodded and made his way out of the room. As soon as the door was closed, Faith spoke. "So a group of thugs kidnapping teenagers led by a magic man no one's ever heard of. And worst of all, one of them is named Dave."

Angel chuckled. "Definitely the worst part."

"Oh, like you're one to talk, _Angel_."

His amusement died down as he tried to think of a response. Before he could do so, the door opened again. He turned around to find Gunn and Wesley standing in the doorway with wide grins on their faces.

"What's got you all chipper?" Faith asked.

Gunn threw something at her and she caught it effortlessly. A wallet. "Have a look," he said.

She opened it and pulled out a card. "Benjamin Foster Davis," she read. "Who's he?"

Wesley cleared his throat. "Well, if we're right, he is one of our perpetrators. We found the wallet about where they fought with the Wolfram and Hart soldiers."

A smile creeped on to Faith's lips. "Uh huh."

"We got a name too," Angel said. "Dave. David, I'm assuming."

Gunn snapped. "Sounds like we got this in the bag. Where's Fred?"

"In my apartment," Angel said. "Let's go."

* * *

They stared intently at screen,huddled around Fred's chair. The clacking of the keys in rapid succession sounded like progress, but only she knew if that was true. She stopped. "There you are," she said, smiling. "Our Benjamin has a little apartment down by the docks. Shares it with a… David Henderson."

Angel and Faith exchanged knowing looks. She took the word. "Well, seems to me like we'd better give Benny a friendly visit."

"We'll see how friendly it ends up being," Gunn said with his usual gusto.

One by one, they rose from their places, heading towards the door. Only Angel remained, looking pensively as his phone.

"The quest train is leaving the station, A. You coming?"

"I can't join you," he said, sullenly.

Faith scoffed incredulously. "What's wrong?"

"I have a meeting."

"Oh, come on. You're the main man of this place, you can't move a meeting a few hours?"

"Not this one."

Her eyes grew worried. "What's up? This sounds serious."

He sighed. "It's just… something I have to attend to. I'll join you when I can."

The others seemed to want to say something, but they all kept quiet. "If you have to," Faith said.

The others made their way out of the apartment, and she shared a lingering look with Angel before following behind.


	10. Traces

"So this is the place, huh?" Faith stared up at the building, trying and failing to gauge if anyone was home. It was made up of pinkish brick, colors muted by years of sunlight, and adorning the wall were scattered graffiti tags and political messages, most seeming indecipherable.

Wesley nodded. "That would be it. Not exactly living large, our new friends."

Gunn stood by the door, reading the names next to each apartment. After finding the right one, he turned his head. "Just one problem. How do we get ourselves in?"

As he finished his sentence, the door opened, letting out a young woman who started running down the street, clearly in a hurry. Before the door could close behind her, Gunn pressed his palm against it, holding it open. "Guess that answers that."

"I think we deserve some convenience, all things considered," Faith said as she entered, shooting Gunn a smile.

"Now, let's have a clear plan before just… bursting in," Fred said, smiling worriedly.

Faith swung around on her heel to look down at her. "I have a clear plan: Break down the door and introduce their kidnapping asses to a well placed kick to the crotch."

Fred sighed. "Wait up," she said, taking quick steps up the stairs.

Wesley came in behind them, and Gunn followed after, finally letting the door close behind him. "For real though, what are we gonna do if they're home?"

Wesley gave a small shrug. "The 'well placed kick to the crotch' plan seems as good as any."

Gunn shook his head. He didn't know if they'd gone crazy after joining Wolfram and Hart, or if they'd always been and he was just now noticing.

The inside of the building was a worse sight than the outside. Small bits of trash lay in every corner, and the white color of the stairs made the dirt covering them all too apparent. The group stopped on the first floor, gathering themselves outside the door to the left.

"None of you are armed, so if it comes to a fight, I'll go first, alright?" Faith said. The others nodded in agreement, and she turned towards the door once more.

She gave the door three knocks with a clenched fist, then took a step back. They stood a short while but no one came to the door.

"Alright, let's break it down," Faith exclaimed.

Wesley stepped forward, shaking his head. He knelt in front of the door, pulling a set lockpicks from the pocket of his jacket.

"Do you just… carry those around?" Gunn asked, but got no answer.

After about half a minute of uncomfortable silence, there was a quiet metallic noise from the door, now unlocked. The triumphant Wesley rose and reached for the door handle, but Faith stopped him.

"I'll go first," she said. "You all stay behind me."

Slowly, she opened the door, her attempt at quiet ruined utterly by the door, which had evidently not seen any form of lubrication in a good few years. She listened for any reaction from inside, but the rest of the apartment was dead quiet. Satisfied, she stepped inside, the others close behind.

The apartment looked about as expected for a home shared by two men in their 20s. Neatness was not the tenants' strong suit and neither, it seemed, was letting air in. In the hall and the area of the living room she could see from where she stood were small cupboards, all mismatched in style, each with its own small pile of books and DVD's on top. If they didn't know the people residing there, nothing about the place would seem to indicate unsavory people, only slightly disorganised ones.

Faith walked into the living room, scanning the room quickly, but finding nothing of note. The room contained a worn couch, a cupboard, a shelf, and a few dying house plans in the window sill, and next to the window, a glass door leading to a small balcony. On the shelf was a small collection of books, in no particular order, and on the shelf beneath them was a number of CD's to the right and a mess of empty soda cans to the left. Separate from all of it lay a book with only a floral pattern for a cover, not quite fitting in.

"There's nothing here," said Gunn, coming in from another room. "Think we got the wrong place?"

Faith shook her head. "Not sure we'll find anything. Could be the whole 'evil bastards' thing is a side gig." She walked over to the window and looked down at the street. "I gotta say, I was hoping on catching them here."

"Just checked the bedroom," Wesley said, walking in with Fred.

"We think we found the clothes they were wearing when you fought them," she said, holding up a pile of black cloth.

"But no weapons?" Faith asked.

"Not in there, at least. Were they carrying any last night?" Wesley said.

"Well, one of them had a taser, but they weren't exactly armed to the teeth."

Gunn stood throwing a coke can back and forth in his hands. "Sounds like we're dealing with a lower budget than usual."

"Well, it's good to see that our occupational change hasn't made us too elite to pick on the working class every now and again." Wesley said.

Gunn snorted. "About the most elite thing we could be doing, English." He threw the coke can to him.

Wesley tried grabbing for it, but missed it by a mile. He watched it fall to the floor and roll into his shoe.

"Well, let's think about it," said Fred. "Where haven't we-" She stopped.

The others looked at her puzzled, then, almost in unison, followed her gaze. In the doorway to the hall stood a young man, his face a pale white, frozen. His gaze shifted from Fred to Faith, and recognition glimmered in his eyes.

"Ben," Gunn said. "You forgot something last night."

"You-" he said, cutting himself short. Then he slammed the door and ran.

Faith was at the door in the blink of an eye. She tried throwing it open, but fumbled for a second. From the hall, she heard the front door also slamming shut. She muttered something to herself, then turned her head towards the balcony.

"What are you doing?" asked Fred

"I'm cutting him off," she said.

She ran over and opened the balcony door, jumping on the railing. Gunn was immediately behind her.

"I'm coming with you," he said.

She lowered herself down towards the street, hanging on by her hands, then let herself fall. She looked up to see Gunn attempting the same maneuver.

"Hey, so you're not a slayer, I'm thinking that might be a bad-"

He landed next to her tumbling to his side. She knelt down clutching her fist.

"You hurt?" she asked, gritting her teeth in sympathy.

He groaned in pain as he got up. "I'm fine, just-" He looked towards the door. "Kid's running!"

Faith jumped up, already running. Ben had only gotten a few meters from the door. Gunn right behind her, still groaning to himself, she gave chase. Ben looked back at them, then sped up. They reached a red light at an intersection. Ben hesitated a moment, then continued across, looking straight ahead. The roar of a car got louder to his right, and then came a screech, as it avoided him by a hair. He was startled a moment, but forced himself to run on. Faith was still on his tail, running past the stopped car without a thought. Gunn crossed last, forcing the car to stay still even longer, and to his side, he could see the owner giving him a resentful look.

Faith was closing in. Ben was fast, but matching a slayer would make even an athlete sweat. He couldn't keep this up. Looking around quickly, he knew what to do. He turned slightly to the right, moving towards a staircase down about 20 meters away. Faith knew exactly where he was going. He was headed for the metro.

* * *

"What if he calls the police on us?" Fred asked.

"I doubt he will with Faith on his tail. And alerting the police might get some unwanted eyes on him and his friends," Wesley replied.

"Speaking of his friends, I wonder if other guy living here is going to come around. We should get out, I don't like this."

The door opened slowly. They both froze in place.

"I'm not surprised you're here," came a raspy voice from the figure now standing in the doorway.

Fred breathed heavily. "You're-"

"You're Leon," Wesley finished, his tone almost nonchalant.

"My reputation precedes me."

"Well don't sound all pleased!" Fred cried. "Your 'reputation' is kidnapping people off the street."

He looked at her with slightly curious eyes, but didn't answer. His attention seemed to be grabbed by something out of the window. In his left hand, they noticed him fidgeting with a dimly glowing orb, about the size of a plum.

"I'm surprised you came here so quickly. Did the police assist you?"

"The police?" Fred asked. Next to her, Wesley seemed to be tensing up.

"Yes. They did bring in our associate, did they not?"

Fred was about to reply, but she was cut off by Wesley stepping forward.

"We're not friends of theirs," he said. "But we don't take kindly to your sort."

He pulled out a gun.

* * *

Gunn finally caught up to her on the way down the stairs. It was a slower affair than the chase had been above, but there was still only one way to go, further down.

Faith leaped down the last staircase, looking around the metro platform. She was deafened by noise from the trains going past and the blur of people walking past. But through it all, she spotted her target on the other end of the platform. She sped towards him while Gunn ran to block his escape route. Ben grew visibly panicked as he saw them approaching fast, caught like a deer in the headlights. The door opened behind him. For a moment, he thought it over, then ran inside. Faith sped up. He wasn't getting away that easily. As she got close she saw the door closing itself rapidly. She reached out an arm, managing to block it and open it long enough for her to enter, a panting Gunn behind her. Ben stood only few meters away, waving his arms frantically to open the automatic door. Faith saw red. She rushed towards him, slamming him into the wall next to the door before he knew what hit him.

"You," she panted. "Answers."

In a moment of lucidity, she became aware of her surroundings. Around the train car, people had turned their attention to the scene. She found judgmental and frightened eyes around the crowd, watching her every move. An audience was the last thing she needed.

"You really wanna do this here?" Ben said, suddenly seeming calm.

She let go of him, still fuming. Her high had passed. Around her, people turned their heads away, scoffing.

"Why did you kidnap Isabel?" she said, her tone low.

"I don't know what you're on about," he said. "You've got the wrong guy." He made his way past her, giving Gunn a slightly curious look as he walked.

Faith turned on her heel and followed after. "You know damn well what I'm talking about. Why else were you running?"

Ben threw out his arms. "Oh, I dunno, maybe to get away from the violent criminals who broke into my home? Maybe that's it, who knows?"

Gunn took a step closer to him, as the train started slowing down around them. "You and I both know you're full of crap, kid."

He lowered his eyebrows dubiously. "Kid? What are you, like 25?"

Gunn crossed his arms, but didn't answer.

"And what was your plan, even? Break into my house, chase me through the city and… what? Record a confession to all the crimes you think I did? Beat me up for some sense of justice? Whatever it was, I'm not playing ball." He shook his head and started moving towards the exit.

"Hey, we're not done here!" Faith shouted, but he only sped up.

She cursed under her breath, running after him. But when she stepped out, he was nowhere to be seen.

"Where'd the kid go?" asked Gunn, who was only a second behind her.

Suddenly, they both heard the train starting up again, coming to the same realisation in unison. Turning around as the train moved past them, they spotted him through the window, flipping them off as he moved away from them and into the darkness of the tunnel.

"Not gonna lie, that was a bust," Gunn muttered.

Faith fumed, but said nothing.

* * *

Leon's shot a look at the gun, for once looking surprised. "You're bold."

"I'm practical," Wesley said.

Just before he finished speaking, the gun slipped from his grip, pulled by some unseen force. It curved smoothly to land in Leon's free hand. With slow, deliberate movements, he started disarming it.

Wesley looked to Fred, whose eyes threatened to burn the building down with their flames. She met his gaze. " _A gun?_ " she mouthed.

He didn't answer.

Leon threw the now empty gun back to him, and he caught it in his hand. "We don't need to settle this with violence."

"We might, if you don't give us back the girl." Wesley said, coldly.

He considered it a moment before answering. "Isabel. That's her name."

"How touching that you took care to learn the name of your victim." he replied.

"I mean the girl no harm. But I can see we're not getting far here." He stepped to the side, presenting the door with a hand motion. "I'll offer you a chance to leave. I do not wish to trouble you."

Wesley looked down at the empty gun in his hands, then back at the silver-haired man. Beside him, Fred started moving towards the door.

His whole body felt tense, begging for release, but he knew he didn't have a shot at taking Leon in a fight. The two stared into each others' eyes a moment, before he looked away and walked out of the apartment.

He found a silent Fred outside the building. The wind had gotten stronger while they were inside, biting through his jacket. He walked over to stand next to Fred, neither saying anything for a while. They watched the cars going by in a flurry of traffic, filling the air with their cacophony. After a while, he muttered, to himself as much as her, "We had him."

* * *

Next to the defeated Gunn, Faith ran her fingers through her hair, seeming ready to rip it out by the root.

"The bastard!" she shouted. "We had him!"


End file.
